of whom the battle robs you.” He spoke, and running forward
hurls his dart full at the enemy: the hurtling cornel
sounds, and cuts the air on no doubtful errand. A deafening
shout follows on the act, the ranks are confused, 25
and men’s hearts stirred with mad bewilderment. On flew
the spear, just where nine goodly brethren chanced to
stand facing it, all born of one true Tuscan mother to
Gylippus the Arcadian. One of these just at the waist
where the quilted belt chafes against the belly and the 30
buckle presses the sides—a youth of goodly form and